It was an impromptu meeting of the Reecer Creek Rod, Gun, Working Dog & Outdoor Think Tank Benevolent Association. We were standing just outside Dean Hall in yet another snow flurry. The lone agenda item was winter; our winter – with whining.
I mentioned that I was getting really tired of hearing nearly-constant whining about our never-say-die winter. Homey Thomas observed that I had just been spending too much time listening to myself. Be that as it may, I have not been alone. Somewhere in there I may have reminded my fellow members of the RCRGWD&OTTBA that one of my old Siberian acquaintances maintained that there was no such thing as a bad winter – there was only poor planning, poor clothing and poor housing.
As the meeting fell to chaos, someone reminded me that, sometime in the last century, I had read a treatise on “real winter” from Brad Johnson, renowned outdoorsman and Director of the Watertown, South Dakota, Chapter of the RCRGWD&OTTBA. Brad was editor of the Colorado daily for which I wrote the first couple years of this “Inside the Outdoors” column in the late 1980s. Once our meeting adjourned, I went digging for his letter.
That late-January 1997 correspondence was composed by candlelight. “Enough already! Winter, bah humbug…The power’s out…let me tell you about the winter of 1996-1997. In my tender 37 years, I have never experienced anything like this. The Great Plains can be a difficult place…but this has been a challenge to all of us. Old Man Winter has been brutal and relentless… Grandpa Howard always said that mid-November was the end of hunting season – the geese and ducks would give way to the weather and head south. This year, they never looked back. Veteran’s Day on Monday was the beginning of the winter that wouldn’t quit. It started to snow that morning, and the geese were flying low off the lake. Perfect weather for those of us who love the thrill of the hunt and being one with the elements. The snow continued for the next day and put down a layer for the ice to come. The geese huddled together on the ice for about four more days, thinking, ‘this too, shall pass…’ But winter wasn’t joking, and they split. If only we all had wings…
“This was just a taste… An ice storm soon followed, coating roads, trees and everything. Then snow – then wind – more snow… The weekend after Thanksgiving was particularly brutal, with the ice storm in the Dakotas and Minnesota. But the big Arctic winds kept marching in. Since the week before Christmas, it’s been almost the weekly blizzard. The only question is whether the weekly event will last one, two or three days and take one or two days to clear off the roads before the next one hits. My heart goes out to those driving snowplows this winter. Every business in town has been hurt – except those who have heavy equipment for snow removal. We presently have an average of about two feet of snow on the ground and drifts around buildings and tree belts are 10 to 12 feet high. Drifts along some roads also remind me of my days in the Colorado mountains. These are 12 feet high and will need rotary plows the rest of the winter to keep them open. The wind has been brutal, whipping temperatures to 80 below.
“Oops, the power just went back on. Now, thirty minutes later, it’s off. In the meantime, I had to call Grandma Lila to see how she’s doing in Sinai, about 50 miles south of here. At 78, she’s still on her own…says she’s never seen a South Dakota winter ‘as dangerous as this.’ The freezing rain – the snow – the cold – the freezing rain…
“Growing up in the computer age and cellular phone age has caused a change in the way people my age view life. Everything is faster, faster, faster… How much can you get done in a shorter period of time? Computers, fax, voice mail – instant communication…
“But winters like this cause one to stop and listen. There is no e-mail. There is no voice mail. There is no microwave (Three minutes? Who’s got time to cook this?) …You hear many things.
“The Wind is everywhere. High pitches – low pitches. Blustery! Ever present. Relentless. Dangerous and deadly if you don’t respect it. It is the essence of Mother Nature. It brings serenity in a light gentle breeze. It brings death… …It teaches respect.
“I also hear a mouse – one of nine that have survived the winter. The other eight have moved on via my trap. This one too shall pass.
“I hear one clock. The only one in our house that operates on a C battery. The pendulum swings back and forth. Someone once said that the most perfectly balanced instrument is the pendulum. It goes from extreme to extreme. This winter is extreme. This past summer was near perfect. We must not forget that. Moderate temperatures. Moderate winds. Very enjoyable. So we must endure.
“That damn mouse is starting to bother me…sounds like a pig.
“The power just came back on. I was just beginning to really enjoy this. Until later, Brad.” (Margin note: “The mouse died Jan. 20”)
Winter? What winter? I have confidence that we will see spring – certainly by early June.
